Even Though
by The Triangle Prone
Summary: A small ficlet where Matthew and Alfred are workers for a club and well it's a oneshot of randomness. Lutz is a "bad guy" because Ivan's a different character and besides, that troupe is over used. T for subject matter? Not sure :I


_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Emilie is Monaco, Wes is New Zealand and this plot came to me from a gif set that was taken from the Vlogbrother's "I ain't got nothin..." video._

_In yet this is aaaaaaaaaaall Ayla the Librarian's fault. Really it is._

* * *

He found the other crying. The club had closed not to long ago and as soon as they were freed from their stages, the dancers disappeared. Eventually all but one had returned to the main room for a drink then to head home. All but Matthew. Concerned, Alfred had gone looking for him and found him out in the smoke area still dressed in his costume from the night and crying. At first fear slammed into his stomach as he walked over to the petite blonde. "Mattie?"

The younger male looked up with stained eyes and red cheeks. Even with the small amount of whimper snot and the remains of weeping Alfred felt a tug of his heart as he looked at Matthew. The boy whined and quickly rubbed his nose free of mucus as he croaked. "What Alfred?"

"Are...Are you feeling alright?" The man asked intelligently while rubbing the back of his neck and showing a sheepish smile. Matthew laught, an honest not bitter laugh, at Alfred's stupid question and he shook his head. He was trying to fight off the smile that Alfred induced by one, simple, stupid, completely obvious question. He wasn't done being mopey yet.

"I'm elegant and posh thank you." Matthew finally retorted, putting on his best 'Alfred, you're an idiot' look he could muster. He had a hard time keeping it and his lips kept twitching from a smile to a frown to a laughing smile to a grimace. Alfred merely grinned at the younger's words and walked over to the teary eyed dancer. Taking off his scarf and looped it a couple time over Matthew as he said, "then explain all this."

"Humanity sucks." Matthew said with resolve. His voice cracked in the middle of his first word but the meaning of the sentence still stood. When Alfred lofted a brow, the blonde swept on. "We're utterly horrible to each other and no one ever feels sorry. We murder each other and don't bat an eye lash. We beat each other up and leave bloody messes behind. We really suck and are _bad_."

Alfred sucked in his lower lip as he listened to what the other said. He tended to talk like this when he was avoiding talking about himself directly. He watched as Matthew used his scarf as a tissue to wipe away his tears and then hold onto the end as though it alone could save him from his emotions and the source of his woe. It was then he noticed the marks on Matthew's wrist and he heaved a heavy sigh. _Lutz. _That man was going to seriously hurt Matthew one day and then Alfred wouldn't know what to do. Gently, Alfred took the other's hands and wrists in his own pair and crouched down to examine him further. Instantly the younger tried to pull himself away but his friend held him in place. He darted a tongue out and licked his winter-chapped lips before speaking.

"Humanity is _good. _Some people are terrible and broken, but humanity is _good._ I believe that."

Matthew stopped struggling and looked up at the other with wide eyes. Alfred never talked like Matthew did, he just didn't. But now he just did...why? The bartender looked back at the other and offered a very reassuring smile. His thumbs traces small circles on the spot of wrist that wasn't bruised. "I believe that because people like Yao exist, and people like Emilie and Wes. I also truly believe humanity is _good _because _you're_ here. And I need that. I need you here to remind me that people are good."

"I'm not good, Alfred." Matthew tried once more to pull away and Alfred let him with a small sigh.

"You are for me." The American bartender tried and earnt a perplexed, 'you're an idiot' look from the dancer. He was then promptly shoved onto the pavement and Matthew stood up.

"Shut up." Matthew's voice held the normal bite and laughter it normally did. The lavender eyed dancer disappeared and the blue eyed bartender let out a soft laught.


End file.
